untilted drabbles
by hectorpriamides
Summary: short stories about carter kane and horus. originally posted on ao3;only half transferred. possible warnings: underage?
1. Chapter 1

Quick kiss to his temple before trailing down his neck, though making sure to tug on his ear like always. One hand lazily resting, a phrase he thought unused with him, on his hip, the other playfully rubbing his knuckles.

He's responsive, pulling their intertwined hands to his mouth, nipping softly on the skin between his knuckles. His skin was warm if not harder than his own. He had done it to him multiple times, typically nipping on his neck and tugging on his ears.

There was an appreciated hum. "I'm glad you've picked it up." He didn't let him answer, kissing him hastily, tugging him closer, the lazy hand suddenly becoming active, roughly tugging. "Incredibly glad," he murmured. The slow comfortable area before was gone, replaced by this tugging.

Always tugging. As if afraid he would disappear.

Constantly tugging him closer.

There'd always be an arm around him, or some contact, keeping him near when he visited. Sleeping in the same bed would always insure that he was tugged back against him. or at least somewhere in arms length. Tugging him closer frantically when he was sick, ushering over him, asking him if there was anything he needed. Nuzzling him when he was uncomfortable, tugging softly in his pants in his child like manner. He would murmur something he didn't know, often seeming protective of him. His normal tone of voice would be replaced, quieter and more apologetic sounding.

"I'm not going anywhere," he would say, kissing him.

There'd be a swift laugh, accompanied by the monotonous "But you almost did."

He'd have to let the tugging continue. it became noticeable for the one time he was in danger and he couldn't help him. He'd bring it up that he was just as at fault for not really taking care with the tjesu heru. That even if could help, he wouldn't be able to much, with the Nome's restrictions. But he wouldn't hear it, tugging on the hem of his shirt, muttering an uncharacteristic shut up. There'd be another mutter of how he could of done multiple things, but never expanding on that claim.

He'd have to let him tug and kiss and nuzzle, especially when he couldn't stand his numerous mutterings. When nights of hearing him repeatedly say how he could've done something got hard to listen to.

He'd tug back, making sure that his god would understand that it wasn't his fault. He'd say how they had barely spoken during that time, save for their possible little nights. He couldn't do much anyway. And he was still sitting there, so it worked just fine. Tugging himself up on his armor, nose to nose, trying hard to not focus on the dual tone eyes, "You're fine!" he'd exclaim, ignoring the arm around his waist, tugging him closer. "I'll tell you multiple times if I have to, it's not your fault."

Another tug, keeping him there, rubbing their noses against each other. A faint smile, before nipping on his ears. "Oh, your ideas are fantastic."


	2. Chapter 2

The rare [often] light argument would often include Horus winning. No, he never had a good debate. Actually, he did, with the whole 'king' thing, but carter could usually keep up [however, he was fourteen, as opposed to 5000 and counting]. No, it would be Carter softening up.

When the god would get this childlike behavior, pouting and letting out a huff, arms crossed and shoulders slumped. Even looking, well, softer, less defined. If his legs where cross the top one would go more lax [things Carter had noticed after multiple light arguments]. He'd slouch a bit, often rubbing his side.

Hell, his voice would even sound a little higher. More light hearted too. Only when the argument would favor Carter though. Otherwise, the partially regal attitude would return, same confidence as before. There'd be that irritating smirk like he'd already won.

It'd be particularly weird when one of their little spats would happen when Carter was pressed against him, mouths irritatingly close but only saying little words. And then, when Carter's mind would drift to other things, that's when the childish behaviour would start. There'd be some little tangent about how Carter wasn't do something, which he understood. Half the time his focus would be on the god, and his normal bookish behavior would forgo him.

He'd feel bad for once not listening but he was so distracting up close. When the god would be situated on the floor [or in a chair, depending on the night], it was different. He could get a whole grasp, eyes not irritatingly close to those dizzying ones. When he wasn't pressed near him, when he couldn't notice the little details about the leather armor. When he couldn't see how the little indentations on the seemingly-perfect leather piece.

He'd notice the fact that the kohl that would line his eyes wouldn't be perfectly straight, slightly jagged on some nights. There'd be that annoying smirk and that annoying way his eyes would light up like it was some holiday and not an argument. And he'd watch how he'd gesture with his hands, maybe grazing his face accidentally [lightly though, often followed by an apology].

His mind would often wander when he was that close, before the god would take up that childish behavior again. He'd have to focus or feel disgusted. sure, maybe it'd be okay when he was still acting like an adult [or rather a teenager, depending on the view] but not when he acted like a kid.

No, he couldn't take him seriously like that. Not when he looked more seven than fourteen, especially not when he would tug on Carter's shirt. Not when he'd tilt his head to the left to a small degree.

When he'd sit on the floor it would be different. There would be a better chance for him to get a broader sense, not focused on one little detail. He'd watch as Horus spoke, cross legged on the floor.

And those little spats would would happen, time and time again.


	3. Chapter 3

The nips weren't anything new. He'd been doing them since they met. Nipping on his neck, the tops of his ears, maybe on his fingers. [Some nights he'd make it down to his hips, often to the flustered fidgeting of carter.] Sometimes he would nip just a little too rough, maybe bruising him a little, a quick apology, going back to nuzzling him.

"They don't even hurt," he assure the [his] god. Save for the one time he let out a little yelp, in which the god had pulled back quickly, gold and silver eyes carefully watching, the smallest of frowns almost appearing.

His concern almost made him laugh, hand over his mouth to stop himself. The [his] god always managed to seem like a child at the wrong time. "I'm alright," he'd say, patting the god's leg.

Horus is still quiet, gold and silver boring into him. He's frowning now, grabbing for carters hand. He squeezes, tugging him up, nose to nose.

He feels his god's concern in his mind. Horus is speaking with a softer tone in Egyptian.

Carter pushes horus' jaw up. "I'm fine," he says, tugging the collar of his shirt and gesturing at the spot. "Nothing." Horus has his head cocked, rubbing his hand. "I swear I'm fine." It's a bit tiring, sure, having to reassure the god repeatedly, but it's something he's use to. Horus seems to have this constant idea that he's going to harm him, which he hasn't.

There's a considerable pause. He uses the moment. "why do you bite anyway?" It's something he still hasn't figured out.

Horus huffs, turning away. "you're right, you're fine."

"Answer me, please," pause, "in English."

He answers quickly. "How do I word this - oh, this is odd - falcons, they nip their mates."

Not too far off, he guessed, Horus adores his birds. The whole mate thing was far fetched. He isn't his "mate", or at least the only one. Isn't that an odd term to use with people though?

"That's-" He pauses, thinking carefully. Last thing he wants to do is make the god upset. And truthfully, he really doesn't know what to think. Carter doesn't finish his thought.

Horus huffs. "Do you want me to stop?"

"I'm fine with it," he answers. Plus Horus likes it, or at least enjoys it. He sees the bored look Horus gets when he turns on the television, tucking his head into Carter's neck. Then that's when he'd feel a little bite on his ear, settling back into him. There doesn't seem to be much that peaks his interest, and Carter doesn't feel like taking the one thing Horus might like in the modern world. (And they've had that conversation before, and he doesn't want to bring it up again.)

He sighs. "Oh, that's good." He's grinning. "Sometimes you're just too fantastic to me."


	4. Chapter 4

Horus wants to be with Carter like his wife. And it's such a stupid idea because he's had so much time with Hathor and he's actually married to her. Carter's just his (precious) host who he holds and he actually talks to Hathor.

He likes them both. The thing is Hathor is affectionate and he likes the affection. It's not like he needs the affectionate (Hathor likes to claim he does). Horus likes it when Hathor rubs his back. Rubbing his back and tucking her head beneath his chin (she's shorter unlike Carter).

He cares for Carter regardless. He almost needs too. If he doesn't care about Carter, he'll talk about things he shouldn't, like possible end of the world and The Chaos Snake. Carter [the nights they talk] doesn't handle the stress well, almost hiding his adorable face and voice stressed.

They have their similarities though. They share this amazingly soft skin that he can get over and can't stop holding their hands and kissing their necks. They both have this way of kissing him and he doesn't know if its because he's kissed Hathor for long they all feel the same or if Carter is just some odd mortal that he likes. They both settle in his lap, Hathor's a smudge shorter, sharing the pacifying effect. He can't get angry on those nights, only exasperated.

Sometimes, in his too short visits with Carter, he can detangle himself from the sheets and Carter's textbooks he piles at the end, and get this really odd mortal feeling. And when he kisses Carter and Carter kisses him back and he wants to stay longer but he can't.

Horus brings these things up to her, when she traces his arm and laughs. "Stay with the boy a bit longer."

Carter let's him. His rule of being gone by time the other Kane shows up is still in place. It's a change, waking up when it's still dark, and staying even when the alarm rings, his ever precious host groaning every time it does. Carter pulls on his chin, rolling them to reach the clock. He rubs his head, before Carter sits up.

"God, it's weird," Carter mutters. "You're still here."

It's a ludicrous feeling, when his precious host makes a slip. He can't handle those Christian slip ups. He doesn't bring it up though. "I plan on being here for a while, yes."

Carter smiles. "You'll be back normal time?"

"Assuming yes," he answers. Sure, he can be in multiple places at once, but he honestly forgets. He doesn't think about that, even though often times when he has Carter tucked into bed, he's doing other work.

It's not even that long for him. It seems to happen so quick. He knows that it's been hours for Carter, with how tired he is, and the pulling Carter gives him. He has to remind him to invite him in, or else he's just hopelessly pulling.

He knows the differences between the good and bad days, without even checking his mind. On good days ever precious Kane is touching his face, rubbing his cheeks and smiling with that mortal giddiness that is contagious. There's that more upbeat tone, that lifts into his old mind and reminds him of his earliest hosts. Though on his bad tired days, his first host in a long time has checked himself onto his side and doesn't talk often. He's got that odd little accent (or even more if you ask him) and words clip differently.

He holds Carter's waist, fingers tracing over whatever little hem there is. It's one of those nights where precious Kane is holding his face. He can feel the joy over his mind, but he can't tell what it is. Carter's got increasingly good at holding him out. "What's going on Kane? Did you accept to be king?" He figures the last sentence isn't in English by the confused look on his face. "It wasn't important."

"You're odd. I'm just happy. I can't be happy?" It's contagious, leaking further into him.

He moves them back. The urge to support Carter's back is strong when his knees hit the bed and he wobbles. "In my experience, which greatly outdoes yours, no," he says.

Carter grins, "People have changed. I'm just happy."

He's glad that he's The Elder this time. It's part Carter's age, he can be a bit more liberal between his aspects. Plus there isn't a mortal king he has to match, much to his chagrin. (Yet, he hopes the Per Ankh lets the rightful kings rule again, and he can convince Carter to take the crown.) Him being The Elder means he can kiss him when he says those ridiculous things.

"Oh, whatever you say," he mutters.


	5. Chapter 5

Sharing Carter's bed is the only awkward thing. He's guilty (not in a bad sense) for having him. Carter makes those delectable little sounds when he rolls his hips. They still had clothes, but he's rutting against him like his wife. That's it and he stops.

Carter was panting, arms tight around his neck, squirming. "W-what the hell, Horus?!" His voice is higher. He's eager, and Horus gets a reminder.

"That's right you're-" He can't get it out, he's keenly aware that Carter's inexperienced and so sensitive. Keeping track of himself definitely has to happen or else he gets a frustrated host (as nice as the sounds are) and he's not cruel. "Oh I'm sorry- I can't-."

"It's okay. You said nothing sexual. Probably best we-." His poor Kane is stuttering and stammering. He's got his legs by his waist and he's caught up to the fact he's holding Carter's hips. His mind detached itself from the body he's using. Thinking one thing but following up with another physical action.

Carter's erection is pressing into him. Clothes, armor and self restraint really help him out. He would've down something must worse.

He doesn't move as the labored breaths slow. There's a lesser hold on his neck. Oh, having sex with Carter sounds nice. He loves getting the younger ones. Not often, and that's why he's enthralled with Hathor's younger forms. The sex part is what really marks it as adultery.

He would, most definitely. Having and taking and hearing those sounds (again) would be on his to-do list. Carter's a boy, by modern standards a kid, and it's amusing because that was Carter's reason for not wanting to do this. Being with him like that would mean breaking rules of fertility.

The world changed over those two thousand years, he hasn't. That stone had to do with it. Sex apparently is fine today (by Carter's knowledge) without getting kids from it; he's still focused on fertility and just how important it is. He's a cardinal point (with his parent-siblings) in the cycle.

"Mind letting me up?" he asks. "Zoning out, Horus." His fingers are playing around on his chest. Grinning lazily at him, there's earlier frustration present.

He's adorable.

Settling against the edge of the bed, not facing Carter or vice-versa, a tense air, similar to his earlier time with Carter. "I'll be back, Horus," he says.

Sure, he's older and has different ideals, but he knows what Carter means. He almost laughs. "Alright."

Almost, he still finds issue with it, he ends up with his head to his knees. Ending up with Carter is a good thing. He's known mortals are beneficial, new ones are fantastic. Compliant. Sleeping is great, Carter's thick hair tickling him, cold body on his warm one, hands occasionally playing on his armor.

Sex, sex though is different. Having Carter in bed would lead to problems. It's wrong, plainly just as that, and he refuses to cheat. That was the basis of the agreement he has with Hathor: he can see Carter (she called it 'cute') but sex was a strict no. 'Oh,' she says, 'it was bound to happen at some point, you and a mortal. Just one thing, my husband.'

He played with her hands, his thumbs rubbing over her knuckles. 'Anything, my queen, anything.' Ecstatic would be the best term for how he felt. That's how the request came into play, him laughing (giggling?), muttering '/Of course./"

"Horus? Are you alright?" Carter sounds concerned, he hates it; he wants to take care of Carter, not vice-versa.

"Of course."

It did happen again, to his frustration. This time around he doesn't slow, enthralled with the sounds Carter makes. He's always enjoyed certain noises. He feels his own release coming, a bit focused on making Carter feel good, darling Kane moaning.

He slows when Carter is panting, head rested on his shoulder, sweaty hair sticking to his skin. Horus rubs his back, the other arm supporting his waist.

"I shouldn't have gone that far." He frowns, saying it out loud. Carter shifts, fingers tracing his chest. "Not your fault, mine, I know better." Carter feels amazingly soft and fantastic, he notices as he pushes his shirt up a little, the light layer of sweat slick against his arm.

He nuzzles into his shoulder. "You're not speaking English."

English is awkward. "Oh."

Poking very lightly into Carter's mind (he's noticed before and gotten upset) he doesn't want to translate. He's relaxed and he prefers to keep it like that.

Protecting his host is second nature.

"Nothing important," he says.

In a few minutes his breath slows. "You know, Horus, you're odd. One day you're saying you can't and then- I don't understand you."

"I just messed up," he says simply. Carter frowns, opening his mouth. "You didn't mess up at all."

He's so affectionate right now, even lightly biting his neck, something he's more prone to do. "I don't think you messed up," he says.

Arms holding him by the waist, he rolls them so he's on his side, staring into those brown eyes he's grown to enjoy (they're not as large as Hathor's, but still good). He does it to get relaxing feeling from him, Carter's left leg draped over his hip.

"You're young in a different society. It's just wrong," he states, huffing a little, either as a child or a prideful adult.

Carter sounds frustrated or exasperated. "Want me to say 'stop'? If you want I will. Will that help?" he offers. He's thinking differently, because Carter wants to go on, he can tell.

"Of course. I'll always stop." The last part is for him. Forcing Carter won't sit well. Young mortal.

And it does help, little Kane muttering 'stop' from his fantastic mouth. Most nights he lets it start, but he tells him to stop when it gets heavier. His frustrated host making light sounds, keeping his legs around his waist, fingers still tracing his chest (a habit?).

Rubbing his back, through the shirt of course, he listens to his breath slow. "Want let up?" He shakes his head, saying he's alright.

He still wants to have sex with his first host. His stupid morals and the stupid fact he refuses to accept modern standards. It's fine, Carter's said, he won't do anything uncomfortable, which is what Horus says to him. Carter makes fantastic noises when he barely touches him, the curious side wants to hear him when he gets started. Just once won't hurt (his morals maybe and possibly getting Kane in trouble). Not like with his wife, enough to make Kane (and himself) happy.

Horus rubs his hips, fingers playing across the waistband. "Carter," he really shouldn't offer, "how about we finish?" Grinning when he tenses, "Up to you."

"What's the sudden change?" he asks, tapping his chest. "You alright?"

"Yes. I won't hurt you, I feel terrible for getting you always riled up." He's not having sex with him, not penetrating him, and not doing anything like the Hellenes. He's helping him, likes he's suppose to with his hosts.

Carter shifts, rubbing back against him. He's thinking it over, biting his lip, and how much so he wishes that was him instead.

"Oh please, Kane, I want to take care of you, let me take care of you." He pulls on his pants, slim hips raising, his host's shallow breaths against his neck.

"I can take care of myself," he protests, stuttering and stammering again. He's shifted closer, rolling his hips.

"You're fourteen. I'm over five millennium. Let me take care of you," he says.

Carter nods. Maybe he's excited, but he quickly kisses him, muttering 'thank goodness.'

It's in the morning, when he nudges his host awake, earlier than usual as he asked, does his comfort set in. He hasn't done anything wrong. He just loves the fantastic sounds and how affectionate (cuddly?) he gets.

Because being a god in the new world means accepting new ideas.


	6. (actually chapter 8)

"Oh my, Carter Kane, do wake up. No, not wake and move, just wake up." Someone holds down on his shoulders, pressing their knee against his hip. "You'll harm yourself further."

Groaning - since when did dying hurt so much? - he opened his eyes, not to cold Russia, but in the Duat.

"You're not dead. Your sister saved you, with Uncle's help. I'll let her tell you."

"If I'm not dead, why am I here." Less of a question, more of a statement, it's awkward to talk.

"I needed to check up on you. You're body is in Egypt - you'll harm it if you keep moving - while I made a request for your ba, after whatever you did before." Horus grins, patting his cheek, letting up against his shoulders, keeping down on his hip.

Carter sighs. He rubs his face, he doesn't get a complaint, there's a strain in his muscles. "What-what even happened?" It's a blur, all he remembers is the tseju heru sliding towards him.

"Tseju heru bit and poisoned you. You're sister got rid of the poison, now you're body is working against the residual affects. I brought you here to berate and chastise you for your reckless behavior."

He stared at him, mind foggy, catching up to what Horus said. "You can't be serious."

"About scolding you? Partially. Your body? Yes. I needed a valid excuse for getting you here; healing isn't my specialty, I wanted to check up on you, truthfully." He laughs, "I hoped you wind up in my bed in a different situation."

Trying to fix the mood, appreciated certainly. "I never imagined a war god being this flirty." He tried turning, Horus holding down his other hip

"I am trying to help you, quit making major movements. If you keep this up you'll strain your physical body." He rubs his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone. "I'm alarmingly flirtatious." He kissed his forehead, "You're cute."

Flushing, real body or not, he's being straddled by a god in his bed, "Your concern is odd."

"Is it so odd to be concerned for my injured, honestly adorable, host?"

"When you're flirty it is."

"Why, I'm trying to relax - distract - you, that works fine, doesn't it?" He smoothes Carter's hair back, kissing his hairline. "We wouldn't be here if you were careful."

The scolding part mixed with affection.

"It's bound to happen, naturally. If you had trained more some of this could have been avoided; you're body would have bounced back quicker. This won't happen again, you won't build up an immunity to poison sadly, you will be more careful, undebatable. A few rook mistakes.

"Perhaps calling it 'reckless' is an overdoing, but you have me concerned, Carter Kane." He let up on his hips. "I apologize for not being able to help you further, but hopefully this shouldn't happen, correct?"

He opens his mouth, swallowing his stomach. "Yes," he says, almost dropping 'sir' on the end, old habits leaking in. Horus sounds truthfully concerned, he can only agree, working out the kinks in his legs. "It won't happen again." He swears Horus pouts.

"Drop formalities, Carter Kane, I'm talking, not ordering. There is no reason to subserviently comply as if you don't have an opinion." He pecks his cheek, "Do you need anything? Whatever you need," he says sitting up.

He shakes his head, neck cracking uncomfortably. He'll listen to Horus. He wants to sit up, he knows that won't happened, gold and silver eyes regarding him.

Carter is grateful for Horus's care, that's certain. He reaches up - honestly how could being poisoned hurt so badly - pulling Horus back down, kissing him, Horus biting his lower lip.

"Thank you," he mutters, Horus kissing his jaw, Carter running his hands down his sides, hips cracking when he meets him, and Horus presses down with his hands.

Nuzzling the side of his neck, "You're a terrible listener."

"I'm trying," he says, throat closing up. He is a good listener.

Can his physical body get that damaged from this? The poison stiffened him, he's probably feeling the effects from his body moving with him, joints cracking on whatever Sadie and Bes have him on.

Horus chuckles. "I'm teasing you. Yes, it can. What you do in the Duat is little compared to your body. We don't need you breaking anything, delay your wake up time. You've been down for long enough."

If Horus thinks it a long time he's most likely been down for a whole. There was only five days left to Chaos until when he went under.

Did he miss Apophis? Did Sadie and the initiates beat him? Restore the Throne? Or was there still time?

"How many days?" he asks, Horus sitting up, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Two days."

Shit.

Shit.

Groaning, swallowing the bile in his throat, he ignores the pop in his wrists, because he's messing the whole thing up. There's not enough time at this rate. If he doesn't wake up soon there won't be time. It's his fault if they don't restore the Throne or defeat Apophis strictly based on the fact he got poisoned.

Carter.

His fault if the world falls into Chaos.

Carter Kane.

His fault if Sadie dies.

Horus pulls his hands away, pressing a kiss to each of his hands. "You are bound to be injured. You are bound to fail; you're mortal. You are also bound for great things, young king, and one thing should not set you back. You will not be the only one to blame if we are all erased." He grins, cocking his head, "You're blushing."

He groans, rubbing his eyes. He never agreed to be king, but that doesn't matter to Horus. "Flattery won't get you anything," he answers.

"I'm not playing, I'm attempting to relax you," he says, "you need to relax. You'll wake up sooner." He moves off of him. "I truthfully am trying to help you."

Carter nods, breathing deep. "Any idea when I'll wake up?"

He doesn't miss the flattery in his response. "Why, a young healthy boy like yourself, approximately a day."

"You couldn't have left me in my body?"

He frowns, leaning over so they're nose to nose. I'll put you back. "A day in the Duat is quicker, you know that. Chances are you heal faster here, all the magic."

Something about him pouting makes him want to comply. He's persuasive. No. "Oh." He smiles.

Horus grins, "All in your care, young Kane."

"Thank you." He swallows, he's stuck staring into those dizzying eyes, back cracking when he shifts.

Light kiss to his nose, "Of course."


	7. hatred

**an: / most is still on ao3. and any comments/notes i had are still over there. the actually document is almost 16k words, but the big chapters are still on ao3 :/**

"I want to hate you sometimes. I mean, I'm not joking Carter Kane, when you do stuff like this I really do." He almost hears the god cuss, the beginning of a fuck.

Horus is getting sort of aggressive, his hands tight in his hair, almost painful, pulling hair out. "I mean-" he feels the magic working over him, healing him the best Horus can. "Goodness pardon my language, you're so fucking troublesome."

Carter groans. This isn't the part he likes. This is Horus getting overly protective, blaming, aggressive, vulgar.

"I didn't try to get poisoned," he says, "it was an accident." He whimpers, unfortunately, at the strong hold on his shoulder, preventing him from sitting up. "Let up, Birdie."

"I'm so mad at you." He does let up. "Accident doesn't matter. You almost died, Carter Kane. I'm-" his hands leave his hair. His hands rest on the side of his face, holds his head still and firm. "I'm going to end up hating you. I should if you plan on dying."

Carter swallows. This is painful. Maybe it's the poison, being in the Duat when he really shouldn't, or the failure. It's probably a combo of the three, but now he's hyper aware to whatever Horus says.

"I'm sorry." He cracks too easily. He cracks too easy and the god isn't relenting. And gods he's messed up. "It was an accident Horus. It just-" Carter twitches his fingers. Even if he can't be seen moving by Sadie or Bes, hell he's technically asleep, it's still awkward, head half in the god's lap, this type of hostility so old and stale it almost chokes him.

He takes a deep breath. "I didn't let it poison me. It got me. And I'm sorry you think you should hate me, please don't hate me, at least not for this. I don't plan on dying, Birdie." He reaches up, Birdie hesitates before leaning down to meet him, even if they're fighting (he's being berated basically), leaning his head into his hand.

Horus leans back however when he raises up a little to kiss him. "You need to be careful," he's speaking a bit softer now, hands not so tight and just combing. "My king can't die. I shouldn't hate my king. See how this works?"

Normally, he would bring up the fact he will die one day. This isn't his opinion, this is fact. Or maybe Horus means he shouldn't die at fourteen. Who knows. "I don't want you to hate me. It was an accident and I'm sorry I messed up. I'm sorry for failing you. But please don't hate me. I plan on living a long time, you can't." Horus does that thing he loves, leaning over him and there's no more hostility in those fingers in his hair.

"Good," he says, smiling gently. "It would be difficult." Kisses his head, gently pulls on his hair, not the harsh type of earlier. "You're ridiculous, silver boy. Let me protect you. Accept my protection." When Carter shakes his head, and the hands tighten in his hair.

"It was a one time thing. An acc-."

He cuts him off. "I don't care. It could happen again, and that is my concern. Listen to me and accept it. It won't change anything."

Carter, whose now convinced something is wrong with him, is sure he loves the god. After all, it takes Horus threatening to hate him that he realizes he cares a lot about him. Because he'll loose him? "Will it help me keep you?" he asks, the hands loosen, a frown on his king's face. "I'm serious. If taking your protection means you won't hate me then that means I get to stay with you?" He doesn't want to say it, Horus wouldn't make him say it, "You're already talking about hate, can't I prolong the experience?" He smiles a small bit.

"Sure, golden boy. Missed my point but sure." He, despite his size, moves down on the couch beside him. "It's just for your protection, stop this from happening again. I don't want to loose you, Carter Kane." Pauses, hums a bit as Carter curls against him, drapes his leg over his hip. "Works out for both of us."

He still feels sick. Poison? Hatred? Who knows. Maybe it's both. "It does." Presses his face right against his neck, ignores the painful feeling of possible hatred, tries to be content with the fact Horus doesn't hate him now. "When are you putting me back?"

"I was hoping when you woke. If you want to go earlier let me know," he says.

It's odd in the Duat. This level at least. He's not quite in, Birdie isn't quite in it, but it's enough that they can touch. And gods, touching him is amazing, he can almost feel the burning yearn of hatred die down.

"Oh, I don't mind." Swallows, Birdie could hate him, he pushes closer, feels the warmth, he's a bit cold, it's too sudden this chill. He feels the poison wearing off.

A blanket will do you much better. Other than that, he quiets down for a few minutes, rubbing his lower back. Birdie takes the first step, pulling some blanket (magic) over him (not them), huffing against his hair. "I shouldn't have said I would hate you. That's a bit harsh for a child," he decides, "I hope you're okay."

Of course he's picking up on it. He can't hide anything from Horus. "I will be," he offers, being thought of as a child isn't the best (but it's different). "What's with the change of heart?"

"I shouldn't threaten you (which is going to change in a few days)."

He smiles. "Good to know."


	8. missing dads and power shifts(ch12)

carter groans. "what are you doing?" not tonight, he's not in the mood.

"i heard you. are you doing okay? you've been - ah - closed off? sad. let's call it sad." horus presses a kiss to his ear, a short breath of air before it's over, separates, space between them.

"i'm fine," he says, glancing up him. sometimes, he's even weirder than usual, four inches of air between him. "why?" he makes the space three inches.

he shifts, straightens out his back. "i heard - saw? - some of your thoughts, you tend to worry me carter."

"oh really? how did you do that?" he isn't sharing with him anymore, both of them are suppose to be cut off. but it is horus.

"i might have - poked around."

"you could've asked." he adjusts himself, faces his godly king. he wipes his hands down, they're sticky from honey and lamb.

"would you have told me?" you have a habit of locking yourself up. three inches between them. but it's touchable, open, no hostility. this is horus being his friend, not his boyfriend.

there was the option of beer or wine to drink, normally carter declines, but tonight he's heavy from wine, barely any alcohol but the taste lingers, makes his mouth slow. "maybe." a piece of bread between his teeth, he swallows some wine to get it out. "what did you see?"

horus softly tilts his head, mismatched eyes watching him. "well, not too much. how poorly did your father's - sorry - death hit you?" he sees the look of panic over his face when carter swallows and sniffles. "you don't-."

"he's my dad." that's all. he loves his dad like a normal kid. and he lost him. he knows what he's saying next, pointing out stuff he knows.

he's trying to help and that's what matters, right?

"it's been almost two years, an eighth of your life. if i mourn over something for two years that's nothing, not even a conceivable fraction, but carter, young carter, mortals don't have that type of time." he gives him a soft smile. he's soft tonight. too soft. he's treating him delicately.

his mouth is heavy. "everyone's different." be rough with me. sighs when horus shakes his head. "some people take longer horus."

"i mean - you and your father were close and you probably won't just let go - i mean quit blaming yourself." he pokes him upside the head.

he breathes in, makes the distance between them two inches. he hadn't blamed himself in a while - one year anniversary - but reminds him that he could have done something. anything. sadie had the sense of mind to react - he froze like an idiot.

"what if i had done something?" he feels the heat off of his friend.

"as what - a fourteen year old mortal? you weren't even a magician at that point in time."

"you could have reacted at least." he did when set threatened him and sadie. he reacted when the daggers came. he could have should have reacted.

he glances off. "first off - i was barely out of the duat. second - osiris being killed by set is part of the cycle. unfortunately your father was osiris at the time." he elbows him in the side. "none of us could have done anything."

carter wishes he could fill the place in his chest that's so hollow. "if i had been stronger-." closes his eyes and relishes in his mistake.

"you could have done nothing," he reassures. "i understand you probably won't move on, but holding on will hurt you. you can't bring him back, carter, but you still get to see him."

he wipes his hands off again, straddles his king with practiced ease, no more inches between them. i'm still sticky i'm sorry. "i should have done something. i know i see him but - it isn't the same," he breathes out.

horus smiles at him. "you get prettier the older you get. you did what you could, carter." he kisses him, soft, on the forehead.

he still could have done more.

he isn't the best.

-/-

the first year, december twenty fifth, he shut down. it took a few hours to set in, it came before noon, then the remembering happened. he - weak - almost threw up, got ushered onto the great room couch by sadie.

"carter?" she's quiet but concerned, rapid hands tending to quick magic.

slow. "dad died." he's terrible. it took him almost six hours to realize. it still settles in his chest.

she nods. "i was there." she gives him a sad smile. of course she's not as affected. she barely knew him. he knew him. he was with dad for six straight years. she had friends and gram and gramps, he had dad, that's it.

carter fists his hair, "you got over it, didn't you?", he forget but remembered. he wasn't strong enough.

"no, carter, i didn't. i accepted it." she sits down beside him. "i miss him, you know. not as much as you, obviously." she rubs his back, "are you going to be okay for tonight?"

he nods. mom and dad, both dead, are making them (kids and amos and walt) get together for christmas dinner (which is funny). they're family. families, even weird mortal/magician/godly ones, have dinner together apparently. hopes he doesn't break down at dinner, as long as he gets to sit by dad. wouldn't he, king beside 'king'? or will he (dad) ignore that type of stuff, he's still dad, they're family before gods and kings and magicians.

"i'll be fine." probably. he tends not to cry over stuff like this. it still hurts, not hard, but the empty feeling is still there.

"that's why you're pulling your hair out?" it's a good point, her fingers trying to get his hands to stop. "hurting yourself won't change things."

he breathes out through his nose. he's been beating himself up for a long time, the past year. he lets go of his hair, relaxes on the couch.

sadie presses her lip into a thin line. "should i get horus? how do i get him? can i even get him?" right because he does help him out in these moments.

"i'm seeing him later," he says. but his hands do cut into his thighs, fingernails dig in till he almost bleeds. at this rate he might just make his bird appear if he doesn't calm down.

she laughs. "i mean right now." she looks him over. then nods. "i'm getting your chirpy bird-friend."

"that was terrible." he smiles regardless. bad puns are the best puns. "i don't need him."

sadie kisses him on the top of his head. "you know you love me."

carter knows horus will make his way there eventually. either by him or sadie. he really doesn't want to see him, not now in his current state, but he always will. he needs him even when he doesn't.

one hour, a quiet hour with soft tv by sadie's insistence, with his hands never stopping with the digging. one hour until the familiar heat and weight settle on his lap.

horus's voice is laced with sarcasm. "'i don't need him'. you don't need your bird-friend? i'm sorry, you children are terrible at puns."

he smiles. "it's cute." he shifts, he doesn't want to hold hands, but it probably isn't up for discussion.

"you use to be cute truthfully," he says, "you got pretty." he squeezes their hands. "your hands have rebuilt my empire, i won't let you tear yourself down," he says very quietly, "i'm nothing without my king."

"don't get poetic with me." carter's slouching, buried beneath him. he isn't as focused on dad, more on the stupid shit his 'bird-friend' says. he doesn't pay attention to his earlier thoughts, focuses on horus, that's the point after all. forget about dad and everything.

he laughs. "you'll get your hands back if you don't hurt yourself." kisses him on the forehead, then talks against his ear, as quiet as possible. "you're bleeding, carter."

he squirms. pants on and everything. "how can you tell?" he tugs on their hands. i won't hurt myself.

"i - ah - have extremely keen senses."

"you can smell my blood."

"sure." he presses his knees into his thighs. "i'm extremely adapt." horus smiles at him, nice and soft and cute.

something shifts inside of carter. he sits up, manages to get his arm around his god's neck, kissing his chin and some parts of his neck. "when i get prettier, you get cuter, you know?"

"war gods are not cute." he lets go of one hand.

carter grins. he's kissing his neck casually, something like joy at the way the god reacts, his distraction. tonight he'll see him again, yet this is still good, he still asks.

"are you sure you can't come to dinner?" he asks.

"yes, carter." he slips off his lap, beside him on the couch. "you'll be fine."

"i know."

sort of. he'll shake a bit. probably hug dad more than he should.

-/-

"ask my dad if you can come for dinner."

"you do it."

"you're a god."

"what does that have to do with it?"

"can he say no to you?"

"carter-."

"i'm joking. partially." he leans up, gives him the sweetest look possible and a kiss. "please?"

horus laughs. "you're a spoiled brat."

"i wonder whose fault that is?" he asks. he wants him to ask, a lot, sadie brings her boyfriend, why can't he? it's a bit different, sure, but he's still his boyfriend, even if he is king of the gods (and technically his father's son? the osiris-julius thing?).

"not mine, if that's what you're implying." he hits him softly on the head. "i'll ask."

carter smiles, kisses his cheek. "thanks. and yes, it is. you've given me stuff i don't even ask for." a lot. the food and presents, gold, attention.

he grins. "you don't ask for much." i'll do what i can.

"can he say no?" carter asks, pouts a little. he'll still go of course, but he wants him there. maybe this is the year he breaks down.

"my father can," he answers, "don't worry. i didn't go to your first one and you were fine."

he kisses him again. softly, he mutters against him, "as my boyfriend, not my, fuck, impulse control." he leans into the arm that settles on his waist.

"i'll go as both, golden boy."

-/-

carter's first dinner with his mom and dad goes well. it isn't like he expects himself to break down crying, but he does sniffle when dad hugs him. dad doesn't comment thankfully. he's always been attached to dad.

the seating is like l.a., back when things were good, with the inclusion of amos and walt/anubis. he's by dad, with sadie across from him with walt, amos beside him and mom at the head of the table, opposite dad.

he passes through the dinner with relative ease, making bad jokes and the adults telling stories. it's nice and easy, he can't really tell that dad's dead. mom is still ghostly and stuff, shimmering and stuff, but she looks real unless you try to touch her.

carter smiles the whole time, rocking during the dinner. dad seems fine, even if he is dead. he could have protected him, made him safe, but he seems fine. it's fine.

-/-

"did you ask?" carter asks, slips on his lap easily. he's got one week till the second dinner, and horus, asshole boyfriend, never got back to him about coming.

"not yet," he answers. he goes to kiss him, to which he leans away from, which earns him a very loud protest. he whines at the back of his throat, tries again to the same results. "why not?" he whines a lot.

he huffs. "you'll get kissing after you ask." he feels some sort of power at this. horus, king and god and apex, whining at the fact that he won't pay attention to him. "you want anything you have to ask."

a loud groan, pushing himself back. "you're rude.

carter grins. "you've given me everything else i've wanted, why not this? huh? i didn't want half of the stuff, i want this, and you won't do it. not manly enough? does it not count spoiling me if you don't give me what i actually want?" this is good power, makes him jittery.

"cart-er. that isn't the point-."

"do you have one? if you don't want to go i don't care, just tell me." one kiss, because the hands on his waist are very shaky, too shaky for a god. "if you don't want to that's fine, we can still kiss and shit, just tell me."

horus sighs against his mouth. "it isn't like that, golden boy, i don't see why. it's not just your father, it's my father. i can't act like i want to with you around other gods, my tiercel. there's a certain way you should be treated, and i can't do that around others." he gives another kiss, relaxes against him, nestled against him.

"oh." that's possible, obviously. he's too affectionate, too cute. he (tries) to be an asshole to him when they're around other gods (minus hathor and isis occasionally) like he was when they first met, but he sees it get harder, especially with horus initiating the contact in front of everyone. he also knows that he shouldn't be cute, he's suppose tointimidating, he's a god, war and hunting, but he did get cute.

"i'll still ask him, of course, but i can't make promises."


	9. carter likes horus horus likes attention

**AN:/ orignally, i had intended on updating this the same time i update the ao3 version. but my ADD-ass is not in agreeing.**

* * *

After Aphosis, Horus attempts to be his friend.

Or, well, succeeds. It's mostly Carter trying to do something, Horus annoying him, yet it's endearing. Often, they have one good conversation, then the rest go to their normal pattern.

"Why are you on the floor?" the god asks, Horus watching him from his perch on the chair.

"Leg hurts." (If he had been looking, he would have caught the concerned look horus had.) He had seen Jaz, apparently there's nothing wrong, he's just over worked. He bends his leg, not too far, he can't bend very far right now.

Horus shifts. "What did you do?" He gets off of the chair, his hand resting on his knee.

"Nothing." He laughs, barely, an almost unnoticeable tug on his knee. He exhales sharply, stiffening up as the god's other hand makes contact with his ankle. "What are you doing?"

He smiles, "Can I help you out, Kane?"

"Thought you weren't good at magic?"

"But I can take care of a mortal body."

Carter flushes. "Whatever." This time the god laughs, pushing on his leg, knee meeting his chest. "Why are you helping me?" He's helped him before just never this directly. Never out right, "I want to help," always "You get it regardless."

Horus rolls his eyes. "You're my host." The word stretches out as his leg does. "If you're body is bad then that means no reliable host." He pushes his leg up again, not fully to his chest, only his knee is bent this time. Quieter this time, voice a bit hoarse (carter finds it **cute** ), "And you're my friend."

"Friends do this?" It's a genuine question. He doesn't know (he hates the feeling). Even if not, he appreciates it. The feeling in his leg is gone. Horus' hands stay on his leg, fingers pinching the achilles' tendon, thinking.

"I guess." He sounds as confused at he feels. (horus is fourteen, he remembers.) "So, we're friends?" His voice picks up, his hands jerk his leg.

Carter swallows. "I hope." **Friends**. He doesn't stop his smile, sitting up in Horus' (nonexistent) personal space. **Friends**. The word is nice, exciting. And unlike others who asked it feels like the truth.

"What else would we be?" His voice goes hoarse again, cracking (adorable). "Does your leg feel better?" Agile fingers touch the back of his knee and push into it.

"Yeah." The god isn't smiling, a fear bubbles inside of him that the 'friends' remark was sarcastic. "...were you serious about being friends?" The fingers that thread his hair, the same agile ones that had rested on his skin, are weird but not un-welcomed.

Horus smiles now, not sunny and cute but ambivalence. Gold and silver meet golden brown, tips of noses meet (carter finds it hard to breathe he's so nice looking);

"I'd love to be your...friend."

Carter brushes their noses together. There isn't the option of pulling back, fingers screwed too tight in his hair. "I don't know if I can be a good friend but I'll try." Sixteen and his first friend is an immortal fourteen year old with ego issues. It's fine, really, he knows him in a sense.

He swears the god has a blush. "Oh, that's right," combs his hair back, "you don't have **friends**. Sad boy Carter Kane." Laughs, brushing his hands to the base of his throat, then back in his hair.

"Shut up." He pulls back the best he can. "I'm not sad."

"It's okay, sad boy, I haven't had a lot either."

One more tug in his hair then he's done. Sits beside him, he's taller by two inches, leaning back on his hands. "I'm your first." Shoots him a grin and a wink.

Carter stutters, looking away.

His voice cracks,

"Shut up."

* * *

"Are you going to do this often?" Carter asks.

"No, not likely."

Horus is visiting him again, not in his mortal form, **no** , as a bird Carter can't identify. He'd explained it as being easier than mortal forms, less tiring, the form already there.

The bird hops from his desk on his shoulder, pecking him in the temple, talons digging into his shoulder. "You should take me to dinner with you."

"I guess. This bird isn't going to blow up like the pigeon, is it?"

"It's a falcon, I would hope not."

Carter looks at the bird. "Awfully small." It can't be bigger than ten inches, multicolored and spotted. But if it is a falcon he should be fine. Scared animal.

"It's a kestrel."

He hums as the bird hops onto his lap, standing on his left thigh. "A kestrel is too cute for you." (not cute enough.) He gently scratches the bird's head, homework forgotten till after dinner.

He nudges into his hand. "I like it."

So that's how Carter ends up with a kestrel on his lap for dinner. It's only thirty minutes, yet it feels so much longer.

He can talk to people, yet it's too forced. So when he talks to the kids he scratches the bird's feathers. His friend, **Horus** , the one settled in his lap, stays quiet vocally, keeps talking to him in his mind, most comments are obscene.

(a few - carter assumes - happy bird sounds - killy killy killy - sounds from the kestrel's throat.)

Horus gives Walt ( **anubis** ) angry little glances. It's adorable. The kestrel doesn't even intimidate the ankle-biters.

Why don't you like Anubis ? Carter knows why Anubis doesn't care for him, being Horus' host and all, he doesn't mind.

He's a bastard son who won't except that Isis likes me more . Among other things . Horus cocks his head when he stops petting him. Any complaints he has dies on his beak, replaced as he starts eating. God or not the form is still a mortal bird, it's obvious that he needs to eat.

Carter finishes his dinner, bouncing his leg gently. Doesn't mean you have to be rude to Walt.

He doesn't like my host, I don't have to like his. The bird pokes his head under his shirt. Especially now that you're my **friend**.

Carter knows it's the truth. Anubis still doesn't like him no matter what he says. He's Sadie's brother, but he's Horus' host which out weighs Sadie. He's certain Anubis doesn't hate him anymore, he thinks. Or hopes. He doesn't like the idea, forcibly swallowing his last bite of dinner. Why would he hate him just because of Horus? He isn't him.

He briefly panics when he goes to pet the bird and can't find him. It's quickly over, Horus taking his finger in-between his beak. It's a weird feeling but welcomed. This behavior from Horus is nice if unexpected, comforts him to feel the beak pull on his finger.

Are you alright? He perks up, talons sharper in his thighs when he tries taking his hand back.

He prompts the kestrel to hop on his arm, which he reluctantly does, not without digging his beak into his finger (he swears horus left a mark). I can't play with you while I do my homework.

Can't I just stay on your lap ? He says it innocently enough, head bobbing as he walks upstairs.

Carter blushes, giving Horus an odd glance. "I guess." Bird or not, that's Horus, his **friend** , has been sitting on his lap. Maybe he's over thinking it. Horus isn't acting like it's weird (this is the same kid that doesn't have personal space).

"Oh, good. It's comfortable." He lets out that killy killy again.

That, again, leads to having Horus in his lap, this time longer. He isn't as quiet, vocal and comments the whole time. It's cute, fluffy head resting on the desk, peeking at his homework. The spotted bird gives him some help, namely pointing out his mistakes.

The comments stop, the bird pulling off his desk with a huff. He relaxes down on his lap, sighing. "My host needs to sleep." He nuzzles his thigh-hip junction, angry little ruffle of feathers.

He laughs. "Go to bed, **birdie**. I need to take a shower anyway." Grips the back of his neck, this is nice, comforting.

Horus laughs. " **Birdie**?" There's a hint of amusement in his tone, nudging his head against him.

"Dumb nickname." Rubbing his neck he coaxes the bird to get off his lap, failing, only succeeding in a (gentle) bite to the hand. "You can sleep birdie. I'm your **friend**." It's a few minutes before the bird complies, begrudgingly flying onto the bed.

Carter smiles. He showers quickly, in and out in fifth teen minutes, the bird resting in the middle of the bed. Dead center. So when he goes to bed at eleven, he has no choice but to touch the little thing.

The bird wakes up a little, biting down on his finger, slotted over the mark. A happy little chirp from the fluff ball (horus is awfully cute like this) then he quiets down.

(in the morning, when he wakes, horus had shifted out of his bird form, fourteen year old body wrapped against him, finger still gently in his mouth. no complaints when carter pulls out and rubs him behind the ear. the same little chirp from last night is his response.

the god has a charm to him that makes him hurt.)

* * *

"You have something on your nose." Carter laughs, Horus doesn't, confused. He leans on the table, stretching up barely, tapping the side of his nose. "Right there."

Horus huffs, wiping at it. "Of course." He grins when Carter brushes his nose.

"Didn't get it all," he says, showing him his hand with a trace of frosting. Wipes it on his pants. He offers the god the rest of his cupcake.

He agrees. "Have these at your party. Where are all your little magicians?"

He shrugs. "Some went home," it is summer "others went out for Shelly's birthday." He didn't, no, because it's awkward and too crowded. He knows, of course he does, if he wants friends other than Horus he has to talk to others. It feels forced though, it's such a power imbalance, if anyone is his **friend** it's because they have to.

Horus taps their shoulders together. A concerned smile then he stops. (horus is picking in his mind, they don't have an open link, it's **annoying** but **comforting**.) "Since we're talking about birthdays, what do you want for yours?" he asks.

Carter shakes his head. "Don't get me anything. I'll save you a piece of cake."

"I'm getting you something, you're my **friend**."

"I missed your birthdays."

"And I missed yours." He leans against him, **platonically** placing his arm across his waist. "Please Carter." He whines at the back of his throat, nuzzling the top of his head.

Carter hums. Turning into the attention, he returns it, nose pressed against the god's throat. "No." His **friend** whines again, pulling on his waist. "Don't get me anything, birdie."

The god sighs. "I want to get my **friend** something." The athletic body of a fourteen year old presses him against the table, nose still in his hair. "Why are you so mean to me?" It's jokingly said.

He laughs. "You're cute when you're upset." He's use to the over affection of the god, yet when he gets the gentle tug to hitch his leg around his waist, he does flush. "Don't get frosting on me." He's aware of the remaining few cupcakes behind them.

"That would be nice." He returns his laugh, Is this okay? "I could eat you up."

I guess. He blushes even harder. "Maybe later. If we're being serious," they probably aren't, "I'm not the one with frosting on his face." He shakes a little when he taps the god's cheek and corner of his mouth where the frosting is.

(this is fine. he knows the god he trusts the god this is just friends being open. he knows he won't try anything - horus is the one that's fourteen **fourteen fourteen** \- but he won't stop him if he tries.)

Horus makes the sound reminiscent of the kestrel. "How later?" Please stop shaking.

"Nothing soon." I'm excited. He rocks closer, hands moving from the corner of his mouth to his cheek. "You're awfully cute." He hesitantly gets off the table, leg drops from the god's waist. "How did you get so cute?"

Beneath his hands the skin heats up. "No one but you thinks that."

"What a shame."

* * *

Carter's seventeenth birthday is good. He sees mom and dad (which is always good), the older magicians get him presents, the ankle-biters make presents, led by little Shelly.

He recounts his day to Horus, against the god's side, passing along the saved piece of cake from his tired hands. Once the fork is pressed against his mouth to get his attention again.

Jokingly, at the end of his recount, he sits away from the god. "Did you get me anything?"

Horus quickly answers. "You said you didn't want a gift. I can get you one." Quiets down and tilts his head when Carter gets between his legs. "Do you want something?" This is nice.

His arms rest on his shoulders, weight leaning towards him. "I was kidding, **friend**." He doesn't know what he's doing, Horus doesn't protest, left hand on his hip.

"Oh Carter." Horus grins, "Happy birthday."

"Thanks." He presses more weight, the god complies, he settles more between his legs. He gets the god on his back, he doesn't know what he's doing, except that it's comfortable on his chest.

Horus gets his leg around his waist, a firm press of their hips together (i'm here) and Carter buries his head into the muscle junction of Horus's neck.

It's a nice feeling.

Actually, nice is the wrong word. It's a different feeling. He likes it.

Carter swallows. He rocks against him, a few minutes, a low hum of approval sounding from Horus' throat. "Hi Carter," he says it easily, "what are you doing kid?"

"I don't know."

(when he imagines this, not that he does often, he has himself beneath horus. as compliant as he may be at times, he can't see horus submitting. it's him, because he doesn't care, he trusts the god enough.

so this is completely new, even in his fantasies, horus beneath him and reciprocating his touches. even for a few minutes it spurs some joy that this is okay.)

"Oh that's right." Rubs the back of his neck. "You're a virgin. Easy to excite. That's cute." He tucks Carter's hair behind his ear. One more firm press of their hips, then his leg drops. "Take a shower."

Carter groans. He wants to stay, this is comfortable, comforting. Some fear picks up too that Horus (fourteen) wants to leave, after all just because he acts like it's okay doesn't mean it is. He won't ask him to stay, that's pathetic. Just pray (to who? his god is right here) that he will stay.

He really should shower however. Take care of himself.

He sits up. "Twenty minutes max." Horus mouths his response, Okay.

He takes seventeen minutes, in and out. And in that time slot, he showers, changes, thinks about what happened, if even for a few minutes.

When he exits, Horus is still here, sitting on the bed towards the bathroom. In his hands is a puzzle, Carter recognizes it, a sliding puzzle with the goal to get the middle piece out. The interlocking pieces are moved by the god with quick succession, repeated multiple times. A frustrated sigh.

"Would you be upset if I broke this?" Horus shoots him a grin. "Just in case."

He shrugs. "Could you not?" Carter wrings his hands, sitting beside the god. "I'll show you how to do it." The puzzle is in his hands eagerly.

He tells him as he does it, rotating the puzzle, alternating pushing the pieces from the inside-outside-inside. It only takes him four minutes (horus, with his mouth pressed to his ear, corrects him, "three minutes, forty-eight seconds."), dropping the middle block in his lap. "Wanna try?"

Horus nods. Carter reassembles it, giving it to the god. He's glad this isn't awkward, he assumes it will, he feels awkward about earlier. Horus doesn't, before he starts the puzzle he tugs gently so he's up against him, side to side.

"Are you okay, Carter?"

"Are you mad at me?" Carter puts his head on his shoulder. The block falls on his lap. Two minutes.

Horus rolls his eyes. "No. **Friend** , how about you go to bed?" Give me permission to stay.

Carter groans. He gives him permission. That's how he ends up sleeping with him.

Horus holds him to his chest, Carter can pretend he's not blushing, head tucked against his shoulder. Quietly, yawning, "I'm glad you're not mad." Glad he's here, enjoys being this close.

"Go to bed." He pauses, then presses a kiss to his head. (carter wants to yell, settles for a loud groan.) The arm across his waist pulls tighter. "You're a good kid, Carter, I've no reason to be mad."

(carter wakes up around five-thirty, the insistent rocking to get him up. a kiss to the forehead is enough, horus laughing.)

* * *

"How do you get in?"

"Your sister."

Carter huffs, left hand on the kestrel's head. Fingers comb through the feathers, thin, delicate bones that don't suit his god, even if he's in a bird form. "Whatever." He feels the heat radiate off him.

He laughs. " **Rude**." Horus ruffles feathers, unfurls from his curled spot to sit by his head. "Back to bed, **friend**."

"Not worth it. Have to get up soon anyway." Carter bites his lip, mind drifts towards his birthday. "Hey birdie, you should shift forms." He sits up, moves over to give him room.

Horus cocks his head. "Why? Maybe I want to sleep." His tone is light. He's not serious. Carter knows the drill, covers his eyes and looks away as the flash of light comes. "But I guess I can."

The room is still dark, no lights turned on, but Horus' eyes emit a dim light in the room. Gold and silver. Carter, moving closer to him, will turn the lights on later, before he has to get ready. So about an hour he can spend with Horus ( **fourteen** ) his sort of-not really-yeah really crush.

Well, Carter assumes it's a crush.

Horus copies the motion, knees rest against each other. "Why did I have to change, **friend**?"

Carter's mind immediately reels back to his birthday. "Uh," he swallows, "cuter like this." His neck heats up, ears burning. It's partially true. The thing he likes more about the kestrel is the close proximity. "Plus you're easier to talk to. Can't take the kestrel serious."

His eyes flash. "I know." He knows he's grinning. "How have you been," a brief phrase in Ancient Egyptian that doesn't translate (a part of him pretends it nice and affectionate and sweet).

"Okay. Schools hectic. Colleges are becoming more interested," he's a smart kid from a good affluential back ground. "I have to get my license soon too."

Horus tilts his head. He has a comment, hears the beginning of it in their (re-established) mind link. (when that happened, he still doesn't know, but he allowed it to happen.) "Sure dear."

Carter is suppose to actually, actively, take the throne after school. He is involved, but the pressure from Dad is college, not throne (dad is more important still).

But he'll disregard the comment. (horus is something special.)

His hands pat Horus's cheeks. "Dear? Is that what you called me earlier?" No, that translates. But this is the easiest way to get him to answer.

He grins, slow and easy. "Roughly, it's actually 'my sunny consort.'" He leans in, bundle of heat in the crisp morning. "I'm saying, dear," one hand tilts and works his chin, "I'm saying you're the…light of my life?" Horus grins, "I hate translations."

Carter stutters and groans, throat dry and neck heating. He shakes a bit. "Me too." It's a nice thought. **Friends**.

 **Boyfriends **.

He's a bit perplexed by the idea, the thought is unusual. He's only thought of dating one person before, and that was a different feeling. More of an obligation, forced feelings about his forced, protective feelings.

The thought of Horus is another story. It's exciting. (something says that horus is going to take care of him, like always). Makes him comfortable, breathing in.

"…you mean 'boyfriend', right?" He's getting excited before he knows the truth. He wants it to be.

Horus laughs. "Well I would hope. It would be embarrassing if I asked you out and we weren't dating." Which is wrong, but the confidence and strength in his voice lets him think it's right. It's easy to let him not understand how things work now, but that's not beneficial for anyone.

Carter shakes his head. "You're suppose to ask me out first, then I'd be your boyfriend." He shifts his weight, rests mostly in his knees and into Horus' space. "But thanks."

A confused noise. "That's stupid. If I take you on a date tonight, then you're my boyfriend? That's seems like unnecessary work." Quickly he adds, "Can your birthday count as a date?"

He shrugs. "I guess. So we're going on a date tonight?"

"Oh definitely."


	10. horus is always better in a linen skirt

Carter Kane, age fifth-teen, pushes his bag on his bedroom floor. He keeps his coat and shoes on, dropping his phone and charger-block in the Duat, the familiar weight of hiskhopesh in his hands. "Mom, I'm going out!" he calls.

Ruby has something to her voice. "You're suppose to go with someone. Sadie won't be home until tomorrow." She knows that he isn't just going out, there's the fact he's going out to take out his frustration on demons.

"I won't be by myself." Physically he will be yet Mom should let him go. In a magical and mental term he won't be which is enough. He adjusts the khopesh, steps out into the hall and glances over the staircase railing. "Please?"

She watches him for a minute then sighs. "Fine. Dinners at seven, be home by then."

He nods. "Thanks mom." Before he leaves, he sets the small television in his room to the ambiance channel, flipping it off, making sure the remote is stacked neatly on top his desk.

* * *

If you needed something to fight you could have just told me tiercel. Demons get boring after a while, Horus comments.

I'm done anyway it doesn't matter. He brushes the sand off of his sleeves, shakes them off, dropping the khopesh into his Duat locker. Maybe for you.

Why don't you try your luck against me?

That wouldn't be trying that'd be a suicide attempt. 

He makes a sound like laughing. I wouldn't hurt you too much. Come on kid, come sit with me.

So you can beat me up? is his sarcastic response. There's about two hours before he has to go home. Demons are sort of boring.

Only if you want me to.

* * *

Horus has his arm draped over his shoulder. It's nice and soft, his hand on his knee. "Don't you have homework?" he asks, that tone that crosses playfulness and sternness. Horus is still a god with responsibilities even if right now he seems closer to a mortal. Unfortunately he, Carter Kane, magician and host, is one of his responsibilities that he keeps up with. He has been since he became his host.

Carter turns his phone off. "After dinner," he replies, glancing at him. "Which you should come to." He smiles, "Spend the night. Once Dad gets home in a few days I won't be able to see you."

"And how long will Julius be home, hm? You do know we can still-" talk like this?

"Week and a half. It isn't the same," he whines. He tilts his head towards his arm. His phone vibrates, the reminder it's six-thirty, thirty minutes until dinner with his boyfriend.

He sighs. "Ask your mother."

"I did. I texted her. She said it's fine. We can eat in my room," he answers, flashing his phone screen. Carter slips from under him. He does feel bad about not eating with his mother, even when she says it's fine, she's still his mother.

"Eat with your mother."

"Then eat at the table with us. Or sit I guess." He pouts digging his chin into the god's shoulder. "Mom likes you. Get to know her."

Horus hums. "I can't say no when you pout." He grabs his hand rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It seems like he can't say no even if he doesn't pout. Only a few times, when it comes to something about hosting or Carter insisting that he needs him.

"I know," the pout turns smile, as he leans against him.

"Brat."

* * *

Carter unintentionally sits close to Horus, actually moves his seat towards him, the smile and look from Mom makes him blush. He wants to reconsider this, but it's halfway through dinner. Horus is shooting him smiles the whole time. He's agreed to drink some coffee and what Carter offers him.

Mom talks stiff, Horus is a king and one of the most powerful gods who deserves his respect. A few times she gives him weird looks when he responses to the god 'rudely'. "I'm so glad you join us, my king," Ruby says when she finishes her dinner.

This is one of the times he gets a smile. "Oh, it wasn't an issue. Your son wouldn't stop asking." He takes a drink of coffee. It's one of the things he likes that has access to.

Carter huffs. "Don't say it like that."

"I'll say it however I like."

"I hope he hasn't caused you trouble," Mom says.

Carter groans before he can finish his dinner. He groans even louder when Horus kisses his forehead. "Carter? Be problematic? I can only hope," he says after another kiss. Is it okay for me to kiss you in front of Ruby?

Don't do it excessively please. "It isn't like I'm a good kid here and not when I'm with him. You know I'm a good kid Mom." She's smiling, it's enough to make Carter want to kiss him on the lips.

"I was a teenager too Carter."

Horus lets out that little laugh. Carter stands up. "I'm going to do my homework." He elbows the god in the shoulder. "You coming?" He grabs his drink. Of course he's coming. Where else would he go.

He's his.

* * *

Carter huffs, turns in his chair to look at the god. Horus is smart yet not applicable right now. He's done practically, save for a few English questions and one geometry question left. It would just be nice if the god could help.

He kicks his feet on the bed. Horus pretends to be sleeping, rolling on his side and jokingly stuffing his head beneath a pillow. "Don't go to bed on me, suppose to be with me," he complains. He drags his English book on his lap.

The god laughs. "You can wake me up. I have to ask," as a god and king, "what's with you and the demons?" And as his boyfriend, "Are you alright?"

He huffs. "Yes. Burning off excess energy." Carter flips pages absentmindedly in his book. "There has been an increase in demons, dear."

Horus hums. "You've been hunting them down, darling, it looks like there's an increase since you've hunted them down."

"There is an increase. Sadie's noticed it and she doesn't hunt." Divine blood makes them more attractive to gods and demons a like, but he wants Horus to trust him on this. He knows what he's talking about.

There's that look. He's seen it before, often accompanied by an exasperated sigh. "Guess I should trust my little prince." But he's not going to.

Carter frowns, only for a second. He's not attempting to correct the god's colloquialisms. It's glaringly obvious, he has to remember Horus didn't learn English, he uses spells, and spells don't come with societal rules packed in.

"Maybe you should," he adds. The literature book on his lap is heavy, reminding him to finish (and that one annoying geometry problem). He turns his chair away from Horus, towards his desk, tossing the god the tv remote first.

* * *

His first thought is, I hope Sadie's okay. The second thing that happens is his mind reeling through what happened.

They're out, there's a demon, and something goes terribly wrong (a Kane family motto).

Carter and Sadie are out, there's a demon they're following. Sadie looks absolutely bored, her wand dragging down. She's never been one for this sort of stuff, just preferring the thrill, high, rush, of magic. He likes it, the running off of his extra energy not involving gym class.

And they're doing fine, his avatar feels so good, but these kids are Kanes.

It's a basic utility-headed demon, Corkscrew, and one scared-faced one (reminiscent of Face of Horror).

These demons are stronger than ones they've dealt with before (or what they're use to). And something happens, the demon almost hits him, swiveling to attack Sadie. Before he can react, he's snagged by the waist, thrown into the Duat. Rapidly Sadie is there too, with a disgruntled yelp.

So now they're both in the Duat, with different circumstances. Before he can asked Sadie, someone beats him to it, all too familiar voice ringing.

"Are you okay, little Kane?" Horus asks. There's a strange reverence he doesn't know, a type of respect he hasn't heard in a while. Something else, the unnatural tenseness, his kopesh, light layer of sand and blood smeared, resting by Carter's head so close he could cut himself on it.

"Oh yeah I'm fine." She sits up, running a hand through blond hair. Her staff disappears buried in the Duat. "Carter?"

"I'm okay." He sits up, his hand grips the back of Horus' neck to give leverage. His pulse is rapid, thrumming beneath divine skin. Carter has a tightness in his chest. Birdie?

Quiet. "Little Kane, do you want dinner? Mother says I should feed you." Carter will stay for dinner even if he doesn't want it. He's probably in some form of trouble with him.

Sadie grins. "Sure." A change of scenery, Carter is still beneath his god, the heavy beating of divinities. "Isis makes you do a lot."

Horus shrugs. He considers thinking about letting Carter up, a quick hands in his hair massages him. He moves off, his arm quickly snags around his waist, holding him tightly to him. He's warm, in the slightly expose expanse between pieces of his armor, sharp hips are coated in light sweat.

It's relative silence. Carter wants to ask

Horus about what's wrong but he can't ask in front of Sadie because he won't answer (something about pride).

"This is were you go every night," Sadie says, when she's mostly done with her food, "maybe you're not too stupid." She grins, "This isn't bad."

Carter rolls his eyes. "I already knew that." Horus, nose in his hair, snorts, soft pat to his hip. He's been like that most of dinner, barely talking as the kids do. At one point it seemed like he'd fallen asleep, pulse slowing considerably.

She laughs. "Whatever you say, brother." She gestures at Horus, mouthing Is he okay?

Elbowing Horus in his side, he mouths back Yeah. People shouldn't be able to notice when his king's off. That's weakness. His king can't be seen as weak.

Horus sits up, begrudgingly removing himself from his side. His eyes aren't focused, darting around everywhere, taking everything in. His hands, resting beneath the table, flex, high strung.

"Spend the night?" he asks.

Sadie interjects (with the best intentions), "Dad's coming home in the morning."

"Oh well." Carter bites the inside of his cheek. Horus deserves his attention at the moment. Until his king calms down, normal self. Plus, he wants to talk to him, and mentally isn't the same.

The god interrupts before she can say anything else. "I'm not leaving Carter alone."

* * *

Carter considers it lucky that Horus can be occupied with a puzzle. He sits calmly at the kitchen island, attempting to get the wooden ball to fall out. He's mostly failing.

Mom asks him about the demon. Sadie isn't home, out at her friends. Mom and him discuss, at length, the demons until Horus' intervention part. He doesn't realize the conversation has turned to him, intently staring down his puzzle. Carter nudges him, his head snapping up quickly.

"Isis asked me to. Something about the age." He gives a content hum as the ball is loosened by a block removal. "Older demons are stronger, the Is'fet is…cleaner. Younger demons are diluted, not as powerful."

Carter notices Horus has calmed considerably. "Let me guess, we've mostly been dealing with younger ones." He leans back against the counter, phone vibrating gently.

 **Sadie (2:48 PM):**

u talking 2 mom?

 **Carter (2:50 PM):**

Yeah. Easier to explain it out loud when you get home.

Horus nods. "They spawn back faster. Last time I knew of the Is'fet ones was about 400 years? Modern magicians don't stand a chance." He says it simply, pulling at his puzzle.

Mom says something under her breath, Horus rolls his eyes. "That's nice to know," she says (he doesn't pick up on the sarcasm). Her fingers trace golden hieroglyphs across the granite. Someone will have to tell Dad and Amos. "I'll need to talk to Isis."

She straightens out, standing up. "I'm going back to campus, I have some work to do still. Call me if you need anything." She kisses Carter's forehead. She says something to Horus as well, whispering in his ear and kissing him the same.

Horus breaks out slowly into a large grin. "Carter, I'm getting another puzzle."

"What did she say to you?" he asks, watching him retreat towards his room. A few minutes before he's back down, another locked-ball puzzle.

"She said she's glad I took care of her kids and that you're safe." He lays down on the couch, fingers drifting across the puzzle surface.

Carter bites his lip. She praised Horus, which is always good. "You're so good," he says softly. The god laughs. "But earlier, what happened?"

There's no pause, "Mother said you were at risk of dying, being injured. I'm not letting that happen again." He speaks a bit louder, voice laced with magic, "After all, you're mine." He is. Horus doesn't need to persuade him.

He figures he's grinning, easy cockiness that comes with the position. "That's cute. Do you want anything?"

"I'd like coffee." He quiets down, focuses all intent on the puzzle. They aren't hard, but Horus tends to not think things out. A crack of wood, a muttered Oops, and a faint reconstruction spell.

Horus watches him go up the stairs. Maybe he hasn't calmed completely, quietly speaking Ancient Egyptian beneath his breath, to himself. Until he comes back down does he quiet, smiling even as he forces him to move. The god sits up for a minute, letting Carter sit down then settles, head in his lap.

His bag sits on the floor, reminders that he needs to do his work, yet there's Horus. He only works on his literature reading so attention can be paid to him.

* * *

Carter nudges the god awake, knocking him gently on the head. There's always other ways to get him up but this is the most effective, showcased by Horus' fingers catching his wrist in a vice grip. "Don't," he says, sitting up.

"What Kane?" He tilts his head when Carter settles on his lap, grinning during a quick kiss.

His hands tuck themselves underneath leather. Horus was definitely injured earlier, demons don't bleed. Gods bleed, Bast bled, Apophis bled, Sobek bled, his king too can bleed. (Why would his own blood be on his weapon?)

He would have healed by now but this is Horus whose magic tends to be weird. Wherever he got hit has to be on his upper body, legs the same sculpture. (No armor was damaged when he saw him in the Duat but concealment spells exist.)

Carter gets armor off. Pressing a kiss to his jaw so the questions don't start, his hands start mapping for anything, over defined muscles (nice) for anything hidden.

There. Beneath his ribs on the right and slightly turning to his back.

"Bastard," he doesn't mean to say it, tumbling out of sheer emotions (he can't name them), pressing his fingers roughly against it. A sharp hiss of pain sounds in his ears. "Why aren't you healing?"

He makes no effort to remove Carter's hand, his own hands twitching on his lap. His inner monologue is along the lines of don't throw him on the floor don't throw him on the floor don't throw- "It's deep, I'd have to leave and see Mother or Hath. Or the deeper Duat. I'm fine."

"No you're not." He lets up on his cut, cupping his cheeks. "Come on, get healed, please. I'll be fine by myself. Nothing can get in."

"No." Horus moves beneath him. "I'm fine. I'll wait until you leave tomorrow. No, don't frown." He kisses his cheek, nuzzling him softly. "I'm not in any pain, dear."

Carter shakes his head. Sometimes, he can forget that Horus is a god, he acts mortal enough. Times like these are his reminder Horus is divine. Mortals have the sense to take care of themselves, the urge to live, they have mortality. Horus doesn't; the godly urge to live is by-passed by the fact he can be revived, no damage is permanent (exceptions of course).

"Either you get healed by one of them, or I'm going to bandage you up like you're a child. No other option."

Carter bandages him. Horus doesn't say anything, but complies with what he's ask, wincing when Carter cleans it with peroxide. Carter bites his tongue the whole time, not going to add even more insult to the injury.

Horus only really complains when he can't put his armor back on. "But Kane it's cold." Quickly remedied by giving him a hoodie, a subtle look of content crosses his face.

* * *

Horus combs his hair, scratching at the roots. "Once Julius comes home I won't be able to see you," he says, almost whining. A close reiteration of something they've talked about before.

"There's always," talking like this. He taps his temple, smiling at him.

"Not the same. I can't protect you like that." The derivation from early. A gentle pull in his hair. "Where's your necklace?"

"In Brooklyn." Far away. Other side of the country. The power is still tempting. "I'm not getting it, and I'm not wearing it." He's not allowed.

Horus frowns. His free hand lays in his lap. Idly his fingers twitch. His voice is strained when he talks. "I'm going to get you one, a different one, and you're going to wear it." His tone is final.

"I'm fine," a sharp tug in his hair, he winces slightly.

"Right...right back." Horus gives him a kiss. He disappears for under a minute. And when he returns, he's stuck on their kitchen balcony. Carter gives him permission. Maybe he should have left him out there.

Horus shoots him a smile, resettling on his lap. He forgoes the armor, linen skirt and Carter's sweatshirt. From the sweatshirt pocket he pulls out his wadjet, Carter appreciates the sheer mortal-ness of it all. Him in some mortal clothes with the glow of the television framing the left side of his face and tinting the linen light blue.

It's really what Horus is. Someone between two worlds, old and modern. Maybe he'll modernize more, probably not. He's stubborn, so far the only god he's seen to not fullymodernize. Makes no effort of his own, only when Carter asks.

"...can't tap into it. It's only for a...shield." Scrunches his nose up. "Poor choice of words actually." Horus rotates the wadjet in his hands. Carter feels the magic Horus embeds in it. It's slightly unconfined, rolling off in a multitude of directions. "Like when we first met." He doesn't mention that Set was close to killing him.

"Right." He takes the amulet as its offered, puts it on to stop Horus' insistence. The amulet is lighter than before. "I'm only wearing this until dad leaves."

"And when is that?"

"Week and a half?" Give or take.

Horus whines pretty loudly. A week and a half is nothing in godly time.

"Stop whining," he kisses him, a quick peck. Horus hums, his hands grip his sweatshirt. How he actually fits in his sweatshirt is a mystery to him. Carter's sort of 'scrawny' and Horus is sort of 'buff'. Maybe Horus changed his size just for this occasion. Something.

Carter's hand rests on his back as Horus leans into his shoulder. He seems content. "And you could always go with me on demon hunts," he offers, a perk up.

It's amusing to watch Horus squirm when he rubs the small of his back. His free hand bunches up in the linen.

Horus nods. "Could."

It's really quiet.


	11. horus still like attention

**AN:/ slightly NSFW?**

* * *

"I've forgiven you about Ra. Can't I visit my favorite host? It is your birthday." The kid's bed is soft. He smiles at Carter, his host blushing.

"You said you'd crush me like a gnat." Carter stares him down, seemingly awkward in his room. He isn't over that somehow. Things said in the spur of the moment. Sure, his point still stands, yet if he really thinks it over, he's going to protect Carter more than anything.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm over it, kid. I could never stay mad at you." He has a plan. He watches the arch of his neck into his collar bone, the way he thinks it over, scratching behind his ear.

Carter sighs. "Did you get me a present?" And that's adorable. His voice is pitched a little higher, a strain to his ears.

"Did you get me one?"

"No."

"There's your answer." Different circumstances obviously. And he wouldn't know what to get Kane. "I, of course," he leans forward and grips his wrist, "did have ideas."

Thankfully the kid doesn't pull back, just sort of looks at him. "Really?" He can't read his face, pulling him on the bed. Unfortunately they're still closed off, neither of them haven spoken through their link.

He nods. "I'm your king, I'm always thinking about you." A sharp breath. "After all, I know you pretty well. I saw plenty with you as my Eye." One and the same one and the same. Same feelings same thoughts. Carter's pulse increases. "Next year I'll get you a present, granted you return the favor."

A little grin. "That's a bit of a risk." Horus hums, gripping the back of his neck, Carter breathes faster. The kid isn't leaning out, in fact he leans in.

Horus focuses on his increased pulse. That's a good thing, means the kid's excited. Also helps focus Horus to this form. It seems like he's up for this. And if he's not he'll stop. Nothing to loose.

He says, "Take the risk," pulling him in closer.

Carter's staring, looks down at something than looks lat him. "Yeah." His eyes are so brown like someone else he knows. He tries to ignore that. She would be in support of this (he could ask his other wife too, depending on which form he's in). Getting another consort.

He gives him another smile. Then kisses him.

Carter's as soft as he expected. How could the kid be anything but. His pulse skips a beat, kid tensing briefly. Only briefly before he awkwardly kisses back.

It's been so long for him. Two thousand years of pent up frustration bubbles up, missing her, yearning for physical contact. His hand shifts from his wrist to link their fingers together. Real contact from someone he actually adores, so soft and new and sweet and virginal–

The kid breaks contact, taking a deep breath. But he doesn't break contact, brushing their noses together and it's a bit of fumbling. Another breath then he starts the kissing again. A little gasp when his hair is pulled. Not rough, just to elicit a response. A great little sound, rouses something **old** inside of him. Biting his lip, drawing a moan from the kid. Old and primordial surges in him, impatiently pulling on Kane's hand.

Carter fumbles. "W-what?" The stammering is adorable, his hair mussed up. His eyes are wide, he can practically hear his heart beating.

"Nothing, you're fine." Straddles him on his lap, his hands finding themselves back in his hair. "Better than fine." He kisses his brow. "So good, you're so good, I adore you." He's slipped into Kemetic he knows.

This is all off plan. Give the kid a happy birthday, kiss him some, maybe have sex, then ask the kid to be his (little) consort. During this he was suppose to be normal, calm and cool, making Kane flustered. But no, all he has is the feeling of Kane's arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

The kid grins. "Right. More kissing." Even better when he starts it, sweeter and more tentative.

Next time he needs an air break, Horus peppers his neck with kisses. Carter tilts his head back, squirming beneath him, slim hips brushing against his. A loud moan, peaks his interest, humming against him.

Carter's hand grips the back of his neck. Momentarily he tenses, reminding himself he's not trying to strangle him. The kid's **safety**. "That–that's really nice." He pulls Horus closer, rolling his hips.

That's nice. It's embarrassing how he responds. He sounds like some virgin, sensitive and he flushes. So long since he's been with some one, and this form is new. He breaks contact. "How far? How far can we go?" The kid flushes deeper somehow, staring at him. He doesn't have to, completely okay if he doesn't want to. He's content with cuddling, physical contact with his little consort. (Still has to ask, but why would he say no?)

He bites his lip. "How far is far?"

Talking about sex is weird. His parents/siblings are fertility gods, his wives, hell, he kinda is too, part of the cycle. But he's also kinda a child, and so is Carter, and children shouldn't really talk about that. "Uh, just, you know," nods his head in a direction. He has to say it. There's no way he'll get it. He's so innocent. "Finish you."

"O-oh! Yeah–that, that sounds nice."

Busies himself in Carter's neck, a surprisingly nice space. Kane trusts him to be so by his neck. "Happy birthday kid."

* * *

Carter's hair is wet. "What?" He smells like spice or a poor imitation of spice. He'll get Kane perfume that actually smells good.

Horus huffs. "Be my boyfriend. Consort. Whatever you want to call it." He can give Carter whatever he wants, Carter can give him what he needs ( **attention** ). He could get it from his available wife, which he's tried, and none of its the same.

He's completely fine if he says no. Right. Totally.

He scratches at his wrist. Horus cocks his head. Necks and wrists – too vulnerable to be played with and yet—

"Yeah. I'll date you." Kisses his cheek. There's a tentative push in his mind, attempting to restart communication. It still exists, but rusted. "You're kind of cute."

Can't help the grin. "You're damnably adorable."

And nice and eager and his.


	12. horus should never be taken to dinner

notes: continuation of chapter ten

* * *

Horus sleeps with his head in his lap, stretched out on the couch. Carter and Sadie do something with the television which immediately lost his attention. Ruby sits just outside of the living room, still in earshot but out of the way, two piles of paper on either side of her.

The darling prince has been trying to not move, a consideration to him, but it's difficult to sleep with all the yelling. He could fall asleep if not for that.

Sadie, feet pulled up on the chair and covered by a blanket, shoots Carter a jackal grin. "You loose again."

He huffs. "I don't know this system," is his defense. "Don't look at me like that," is directed to Horus, playfully swatting his head. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, offering it to him. It keeps him occupied, puzzle games with varying levels of enjoyability.

"Does someone want to explain to me what's going on?" Horus prods, twisting on his back. It's a fighting game, and he's learned before to not apply what he knows to these (through Carter's trial and error).

Carter chimes in. "It's like the other one we play but less violent. And with weapons."

"Plus the plane is different, 3D instead of 2D, so it's better. It's why brother dearest can't win," Sadie finishes. His host's anger spikes, huffing.

"Oh, shut up," he bites his tongue. Ruby's absence from the room gives him freedom to give him a quick kiss. The kid relaxes some, thighs loosen up and shoulders relax. He wins the match as Sadie gags.

"Unfair," she whines.

Horus glances at his Kane, then adds, "I'd kiss you but you're a bit too young for me." Carter smiles faintly. A soft sense of domination, the most he's ever gotten out of him, his arm resting on his shoulder, pinning him down. (not truthfully, it would be easy to get out of course, but it makes the kid more of him.)

He twists on his side, pressing his face into Carter's smooth stomach. Ka-ne, he whines. He rubs the back of his neck, playing one handed, the god hiding his purring. He's fine with not being paid attention to as long as his boyfriend is near. That's what he tries to think, a sinking feeling in his magic to claim the kid.

Sadie pauses as ROUND FOUR shows up on the screen. "You're the baby of this family," she points out. Ruby, still in the other room, laughs a bit too loudly. They're two parts of Isis, his annoying little sister with no true malevolent intent living with her other facet of an angry, malicious widow and mother.

"When did you have a birthday?" It's December, his birthday slowly approaching and kids on that 'religious' (hah) holiday. He's hyperaware of Carter's birthdays, passed months ago.

Sadie snorts. "You went out to dinner with us." That stirs memories.

"A glamour would work just fine. I can wear my goodarmor," he offers. He watches amused as Carter huffs and gestures at the bed. Already the top part of his armor has been removed.

"But Mom bought you clothes. Plus Sadie wants you there," he says, pouting, kneading his thighs. It would make all of them – Horus excluded – happy. "They're counting on me to get you there." He wants to point out that Carter isn't dressed yet, only in khakis. (two possible reasons: one, it's more of a hassle to get horus dressed. or two: the kid does it to tease him and keep his attention.)

Horus sighs. He kisses the top of his head of curly hair. "I don't care, brat." It's a lie, it will always be a lie, yet his prince does relax.

Carter, who is a few blessed inches shorter, smiles. "They should fit. I made sure she didn't get anything too gaudy." He settles on the bed, laying on his back, making option two correct.

As he pulls on a white undershirt, which fits, the kid says with a voice crack, "At graduation in a few years, I was going to ask you to dress nicely but..."

"It's different if it's for you, kid," he says, tapping their feet together. There isn't the need but the urge to tack on, I'd do anything for you. Given the way the kid blanches, he likely did. Playfully he cocks an eyebrow, hooks his thumbs in the skirt of his armor, Carter looking away quickly, adorable blush blooming over the discoloration.

"You, uh, should put the shirt on first. Easier to tuck in that way," he says. He helps him button up, Horus keeps his comments to himself because of Carter's smile. He sighs wistfully. "I've always wanted you in nice clothes."

Horus can't look at him. Something he wanted and he didn't give it to him. He bites his cheek. He's certain he doesn't stop it until they get to the restaurant.

He sits with Ruby, across from the kid and little Kane, nestled in the corner. It's a good spot, easy to see everyone and glare at the server. Ruby says softly, the ever doting mother, in the most archaic form of his language, " Stop biting ." With no comment on his general possessiveness he keeps it up, Carter's feet tangled up with his, arm on the windowsill.

"How old are you?" he asks, unsure how old she was at the beginning of all of this. Carter's on the cusp of a birthday, climbing towards seventeen.

Sadie, dressed in what can be described as 'modest yet would make Isis moderately upset', looks over the lip of her menu. "Oh, fifth-teen." It's a vaguely tired response.

Did you get her a present? Horus asks. A nagging sense to get her a gift.

Don't worry, I put your name on it. He smiles at him, curly hair over the collar of his shirt. "Are you eating?" he asks, poking at his menu. The kid rubs his calf with his foot. Logically, he knows it's Carter playing around, but there's always a component of keeping him to this form.

"Oh, that's right," he says, muffled against Carter. The kid lets go of his neck. "You liked your present, right?" He's never asked what they (carter) got her.

"I did," the sound of plastic hitting the coffee table. A sense of anger from both kids.

"Don't tell me you broke it," Carter groans from above. Horus doesn't particularly care for what's going on. He plays on the phone. He should probably intervene in this, the kid pulling heavily on his magic, acute senses alerting him to little Kane's rapidly growing pinnacle of magic. She's no threat to his kid, not to the point of danger, else he would step in.

Ruby is in the room. "I ordered pizza. I assumed everyone's eating. You'll have to postpone your...tournament, I'm taking Sadie with me." He knows that tone, stern and not open for discussion.

Sadie huffs. "Why not Carter?"

"Because then she has to take me," Horus interjects. The situation needs diffused, the pop of a cereal bag in the cabinet. "Much easier to take you. I hate the car."

Little Kane mutters, "All they're going to do is neck." She stops arguing with Ruby, a few more minutes until they're alone.

Horus looks up. "Well, can we?" he asks, fully expecting a no.

But then the kid shrugs. "Sure." He blushes though, straddling his thighs. He's shorter of course, stretched slightly with Horus's hand on his back and waist. The kid cups his cheeks, smiling adorably and his hair begs to be messed up. He hears the faint beat of his quick heartbeat.

It's sweet when Carter initiates kisses. Fidgety and unsure after almost three years. They're on the cusp of having an anniversary and him a birthday.

The kid rearranges himself, less stretched. It causes a slight kink in Horus' neck, but it's worth it. Pulling on Kane's waist, a low whine is his gift. He's still bashful but now vocal. He growls in response, tangling his hand in his hair.

Easily twisting them to lay his host down, gripping tighter, Carter breaks contact. "So, uh, we can do this later since I'm going to be out tomorrow. Make up for ignoring you. I figured you wouldn't say no," a little giggle.

Nibbling on his ear, he presses their hips together, grinning at the mewl from the kid. "That works. I'm suppose to go out with your mother."

He's so pliable, craning into him with a (gentle) simple pull of his hair. "Right. You'll have to borrow clothes, won't you?" His warm breath tickles his ear. He's submissive enough. His boyfriend (such a nice term) twists out of his hold and curls into the couch. He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch. He turns off the video game, switching to the normal television.

"Do I?" Slipping behind him, he tugs on his waist with an iron grip. Nuzzles the back of his neck. He moves too often.

"I'd assume," he relaxes into his hold. Someone's getting possessive.

Someone got submissive. He's content like that, listening to his host drone on about how he should have a pair of jeans. Wean him off of glamours. Adapt him to modern life. He's plenty adapted. (comparatively, no.) He wears modern clothes on occasion, takes partial interest in modern entertainment and has ties outside of his host.

"You do this with my mother often?" Horus asks, following Ruby around the store. He has a choice. He can wander off on his own. He knows, however, that he's too hyperaware of everything to be trusted alone.

There's also the demons running rampart. The insurgence of Is'fet creatures, sworn by Set to not be his doing. Constantly he looks out for the beasts, keeping his host safe. But Carter isn't here. He slowly feeds the amulet magic to make up for it. Thankfully nothing has happened to warrant its activation. Knowing his luck, today's the day something happens and he's too far away to do anything. Carter's learned to hide his panic and distress so if anything happens he's unaware.

"Very," she responds. She, unlike him, has an accent. "What would she like?"

He isn't interested in Isis' birthday. "Oh, I don't know." Disinterested and unknowledgeable about modern wares.

Ruby smirks at him. "Really? Because she knew what to get you." Like with Carter, he's taller than her, a sturdy woman that Isis could learn a few things from.

"Father always gets her gifts. Or my aunt. She's pricey to shop for." He usually gets his name put on gifts. Unless he's younger, than he can indulge in some stupid craft.

She laughs. "I never thought money was an issue."

"It's not." Slowly in modern times Isis has talked about getting him an allowance. Ridiculous, he's an adult. He can get money whenever he wants. When he used to pay for their dates, he didn't have to worry about how much. All he had to take note of Carter's worrying of where it came from.

"I'll put your name on it, how about it?" She does the Kane thing, asking a question that isn't meant to be answered.

He bites his cheek. "Whatever." How are you doing, kid? he asks, pouring a little more magic in. A few hours without talking makes him antsy.

Minutes of trailing Ruby, then his boyfriend chimes in. I'm fine, birdie. Are you alright? You don't have to stay with Mom the whole time. He's mistaking his actions for needing his host, not him restocking the amulet.

Oh, I couldn't do that. I can sustain myself without you. He pulls on his Duat signature to make the point. "When are we getting Carter?" he asks Ruby, her amused smile riles him up. He knows that the Kane family finds his (over)attachment funny. He sees why, Horus the Avenger so very wary of leaving his host-turned-boyfriend to the point of him being certain paranoia is something he can have and experience.

"A few hours. At eight. Carry this," she says, handing him a pastel plastic bag. Three hours. His kid is at a college talking to Ruby's colleagues (for some odd reason she doesn't have to be there). Both of his parents warrant special attention.

"Stop calling him that."

"Baby Heru."

The Kane kids argue above him. They forgot about the movie they put on. He doesn't mind, purring quietly at the mentions of his name. Carter's phone died some time ago so theirs nothing to focus his attention.

Sadie laughs. "He's fourteen. He's the little baby of the family. Unless Mom has another kid–" Ruby's fake gagging from the kitchen. "Baby Heru Kane."

Horus cackles. Carter looks at him from being nestled in his side. "Little Kane, that was not how I intended to adopt your name."

The kid stutters out, "He won't always be fourteen." It's very warm under their blanket. Part of him is grateful that he didn't wear his armor. The twinkling of various Christmas stars serve as the only (distracting) decoration.

Heru Kane, the kid repeats to him. He doesn't have a last name to attach to Carter. Titles, kingdoms, wealth. No official last name.

It's evident Carter pays no mind to the movie. He fidgets against him, eyes closed. Or he falls asleep. The time peaked past midnight some time ago. Four hours until sunrise, the familiar give into his magic, slowly replenishing this form. Sustaining a body for days at a time is ridiculous, coupled with the days of lesser sunlight that plague this place (at least it's warm).

Ruby, standing behind the couch, sighs loudly. "They made me stay up and they fall asleep." She knocks Sadie on the head, a groan as the girl slips further onto the couch.

"It is pretty late."

"Can you take him to bed?"

"He hates being carried."

She smiles fondly. "I know. Sleeping on the couch isn't allowed."

He frowns. "I sleep on the couch."

She laughs quietly. "I can't control what you do."

Horus nudges the kid awake. He'd rather have a cranky Carter as opposed to an angry one. "I never said you did," he answers, Carter's whine in his ear. He gently coaxes his host awake, playful pat to his side in response to the head shakes he gets. He brings up the carrying method, the loudest whimper of all.

He slowly gets up, wrapping his arms around his neck. He mutters a Fine. Carter's very light yet strong, easy to support just under his knees. "I'll, uh, see you later," he says to Ruby.

The easiest part is going up the stairs. Sets him down in bed, Carter pulling him down, grumbling about being woken up. Adorable, head tucked in his throat.

(neither of the kids wake up till around ten. he doesn't sleep long, stays in bed with carter with at least far past the sun rise.)


	13. petulant children always find each other

"You're certainly tired," Carter quips, rubbing his neck. Horus wraps his arms around his waist, head in his lap. "Long day?"

Horus sighs. He burrows into his lap. "I guess. I'm gon' nap," he says quietly.

"Not on me I hope." He wants to get out of his coat first, get Horus off of his waist. He doesn't mind having the god on him, prefers it. Yet the awkward twist he has to do to hold his waist doesn't look comfortable.

He almost thinks he's asleep, a few minutes for a response. "I can't sleep anywhere else," he mutters. And he doesn't sleep often. Even tucked into bed together Horus never truly sleeps. Carter only knows because he head butted him every night for a month and asked, "You're not asleep, are you?" with the immediate response of, "Of course."

Carter pinches him. "Ever going to tell me why? Let me get up. I'm coming back." He stands, keeping in Horus' eyesight. He hangs his coat up, stuffing his book bag under the the shoe box. He grabs a blanket off the arm chair and the remote, getting pulled down onto the couch immediately afterwards.

Horus grumbles, tucking his head into his lap. "You're so cruel," he murmurs. "Let me sleep," he says, rubbing his cheek against his jeans. Purring softly, forehead resting against his hip, the blanket tucked on top of him.

"You're such a baby," he says, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He scratches him behind the ear for a while. If he checks the Duat there's an actual bird-headed man, bloodied beak and gold-ish feathers, cuddled up in a blanket seemingly asleep. A surreal feeling to run his fingers through the feathers but not feel them. Judging by the way the god leans into it, he can feel it just fine.

Is this why you like being pet? he asks. There isn't an answer, not that he expected one.

Carter watches TV for a few hours. Mom and Sadie get home around six, the noise doesn't stir the god at all. He lies through his teeth and says he ate dinner to get Mom off his back. Sadie retreats to her room after a flippant glance at them.

Around eleven o'clock, he tries to get up. Horus whines in his sleep, magic languidly holding him down. Carter could get up with some resistance, yet there's something about Horus that makes him stay. He rubs his cheek, coaxing him up slowly. A muffled, "What time is it?" followed by him shifting onto his back.

"Eleven. You slept for eight hours," Carter says, grinning at his boyfriend's groan. He gently gets his lap freed, kneeling by his head. "I have to go to bed. You're coming with me, right?" He picks at the blanket.

He whines. "That's not very long." He sits up, rubbing his eyes like a child. The god tugs on his armor, righting it against him. His lapis-lazuli armband is twisted so Carter takes the liberty of fixing it.

"More than I thought you would," he says, kissing his cheek. He pulls him up closer, grinning. "You're so cute." Carter laughs at the flustered god, brushing his nose across his cheek. "Does this mean you trust me?"

Horus snorts. "Not too much. Let's go." I'm joking, kid, stop looking like that. He stands, extending a hand to him. It's a few minutes, climbing up the stairs, Horus grumbling about time passage.

The god mumbles, "I'll take you to breakfast. Or dinner. Get you a gift. Make up for this."

Carter smiles. "It's cool. You're pretty cute tired." Once in his room, Horus slips himself out of his armor. He snaps his arm band off, tossing it on the side table, the crack of beads hitting wood. The god is a nimble thing, getting behind him easily.

"I'll go sleep somewhere else."

"No you won't." He's not cocky (but really, where else could he sleep?) with Horus admitting to not being able to sleep elsewhere. "Come on, birdie." What originally had been a fun nickname turned into one of the only nickname he can use. Once he called him babe, with Horus snapping I'm not an infant and shutting down for a day and not responding. (Until Carter started pouting and rubbing his face against his neck.)

Horus rolls his eyes. "Fine, kid. You're changing, right?" He looks at him, head cocked. "You tend to be cranky when you don't."

He ignores his comment. "Yeah, I am." He tugs the hem of his shirt up. He pulls his shirt higher. Horus glances away, blush spiraling on his cheeks. "You want a shirt?" He prefers Horus without a shirt, truthfully. He likes the slimmer form of Horus he's adopted. (Carter doesn't really know what he likes, all he knows is he likes Horus, even with his ever changing minute traits.)

The god shrugs. "Do I?" He moves, slipping under the blanket. He's a tired child.

"Don't worry about it." Carter flips on the TV, plugging his phone in. He slides next to him. "Move for a second." Horus groans but doesn't question him. His head tucks beneath his chin.

Horus sleeps pretty quick. Once he's sure he's asleep asleep, he puts distance between them.

Carter's sleepy bird of a boyfriend is fine come morning. It starts with him apologizing for his phone going off, Horus shushing him. "You're fine, kid. Hey." He pats his back. "You came back."

"Course I did." He kisses his cheek twice. "Do you feel better?"

Horus groans. "Yeah." He leans away, gently settling on top of his hips. "About last night. Do you want breakfast or dinner? Or I can get you a book or something."

He grins. "You can be that cute every night. It would be great if my amazing boyfriend told why he was like that but–" he huffs.

The god rolls his eyes. "You're spoilt. Those days where you come home and you act like a tired child because you've had a long day? That's all this was. Breakfast or dinner?"

He hums. "Dinner."


	14. hearts of hearts of -- why is saw real

notes: slight nsfw, thanks to sadie.

* * *

"How...Can someone explain to me how sharks end up in a water spout?" Horus sounds genuinely perplexed and more intrigued than Carter expected.

Carter glances down at him. "It's a cheap sci-fi movie. Don't over think it, babe."

"Yes, but–" Horus quiets with Carter laying his arm over his shoulder. "I, ah, what is sci-fi?" he asks, stammering. His body curls closer to him, pulling his blanket till he's just shoulders and head.

He lets the over drawn action scene fill the room. Horus watches it in rapture; Carter watches him while drowning in euphoria. His god twists further into him, mumbling about the movie in stilted Kemetic. His head tucked under and into Carter, knees pulled up on the couch, sandals discarded on the floor, he looks for all he's worth comfortable. (even his calloused fingers which twitch in their emptiness, steadily clasping themselves together.)

'Hidden in my hearts of hearts of hearts.' Horus had brought up during a dinner or lunch or luncheon, quietly and quietest by the final heart. It seemed, at this stage of their relationship, quote/un-quote, rude to verbally question him on the phrase. He nudged him and the explanation began with startling clarity.

First (his eyes trained solely on the hands in his lap): his kingdom, his people, his griffins, his birds. The sun of the desert. The sand finding its way everywhere. The gleam of his khopesh and the hook of a javelin. Hosts.

Second (interested suddenly in the cups on the table): his family. Mothers. Aunts. Fathers. ('I never quiet loved them as much as my siblings.') Gentle brushings of a kohl brush as Mothers and Aunts teach him and the eventual job accomplished by his own steady hands. His wives. (a lull, scentless breath replaced with wine.) Serket — I have a knack for getting poisoned — and Hathor(-Sekhmet).

Third (carter leaned into his side): the firsts for everything. The first of many swords, combat avatars. The weight of crowns, north, south, double. His first marriage to each wife. Each original birth of a child. Carter — the first and final of mortal couplings.

Carter squeezes his shoulder, mumbling 'hearts of hearts of hearts' after a chaste kiss. "I asked you to forget I said that." Bold eyes still focus on the television.

"No one but I knows that you're a total sap." He rights himself. "Sci-fi means science fiction." His mouth quirks into a smile.

"So you're admitting science isn't real?" Horus asks, nuzzling into his chest at a particular scene with too much blood.

He sighs. "Science is real, old man, it exists along side magic." A piece of popcorn hits the side of his face.

Sadie steps in, bowl tucked under her arm. "Hate to cock block you, boys – who am I kidding, I love doing it." She flops down beside Horus. Her shit eating grin is worrisome.

Horus huffs. "Does not that phrase imply that I was getting it in the first place?" His left hand fists in the side of Carter's shirt, tentatively looking at the screen again.

She tsks. "Carter, why are you making this poor boy watch this? It's obvious that he can't handle this."

He rolls his eyes. "He can change it if he wants." He kisses the top of his head, asking, You are alright? His worry peaks. He never meant to force Horus into anything. But the god smiles, chirping. "See? He's fine."

She shakes her head. "No, no. I think I know a movie more his speed." She reaches for the remote, a glare in her eye he can't place. The category quickly changes to HORROR and Carter pushes out a shaky breath.

"Sadie–"

Her selection is picked, the dark loading screen.

"–you're going to give my boyfriend a heart attack–"

"Oh, I don't think I can't have those."

"–and I'm going to be mad at you for the rest of our lives."

Sadie pats his shoulder good-naturedly. "He will be fine. So will you." Carter is about to scold her but there is a very heavy and solid form that curls up into him. He glimpses a scene, an arm being fed through a power saw and an obscene amount of blood. "Oh! I should restart it."

Carter glares at her over the rigid form hiding against him. He rubs his back, opening his mind a little and gods, Horus is in there no problem. His mouth opens, a slew of vitriol ready, but the god head butts his mouth close. "It is fine, princeling. I will handle this," he says, as loud as he can from his shoulder. His head slowly raises and turns to watch. "See?" (he's the reason he doesn't curse sadie out.)

He mothers him, wrapping the knit blanket firmly around him. A fond roll of gorgeous eyes. Carter can't pay much attention to the movie. A breathtaking god composed of strong, lithe muscles and golden skin nestled into his ribs. His heartbeat beats heavy, heavy, loud enough that it resonates in his chest.

Horus may talk big, but he turns back into him. He peers from his chest, a hand fisted in his shirt. What is the point of this? and a chorus of No becomes common tongue. Carter has to sigh, kissing his forehead every time it happens.

"I—" screams on the TV, "—think I'm clocking out. Yes, most definitely."

"Hearts of hearts of hearts," he whispers.

"Nope! Er...no. Done. Too taxing. I need another two thousand year break." Carter chuckles. "Yes. I'm going to bed. Goodnight children." He kisses his forehead, her cheek, and promptly falls asleep on his shoulder.

Sadie grins. "See? Both fine. We – as in Walt – watch horror with Annie all the time. He's a bony bastard. Always on my lap."

Carter rubs the back of his neck. "I thought you were trying to cock block me?"

She chuckles. "Nah. He's good for you. Just, you know," she winks, poking him in the shoulder, "in all the right ways."


End file.
